Not knowing when the dawn will come, I open every door.
I dwell in Possibility…
If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain.
Truth is so rare, it is delightful to tell it.
Parting is all we know of heaven and all we need of hell.
There is not frigate like a book to take us lands away nor any coursers like a page of prancing Poetry.
Because I could not stop for death, He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves and immortality.
Beauty is not caused. It is.
If I read a book and it makes my body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry.
Tell the truth, but tell it slant.
If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain.
Truth is so rare, it is delightful to tell it.
Parting is all we know of heaven and all we need of hell.
There is not frigate like a book to take us lands away nor any coursers like a page of prancing Poetry.
Because I could not stop for death, He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves and immortality.
Beauty is not caused. It is.
If I read a book and it makes my body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry.
Tell the truth, but tell it slant.
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